Sideways
by WriterJC
Summary: *Be careful. This could be a trap.* Things go a little sideways when Team Sheppard set out in search of an Ancient distress call. Team with appearances from Elizabeth and Carson.


Title: Sideways

Characters: Team, appearances by Carson Beckett & Elizabeth Weir. Set sometime before "Sunday".

Spoilers: So minor you may not even recognize it spoiler for "The Long Goodbye"

Rating: Nothing you wouldn't see on the show

Summary: Things go a little sideways on an away mission in search of an Ancient distress signal.

Author's Notes: This story was initially written for the sgahcchallenges lj community fall fic exchange. Sadly, I ran out of time, and didn't have a chance to really complete the story the way I wanted to before the deadline. It's been touched up, given more of ending (and a title!). It has also been beta read by the lovely HiddenValor who did a wonderful job. Any remaining mistakes are my own.

The Assignment: Sheppard whump with physical and emotional angst and plenty of H/C with the team. Preferably during a time with Carson and Elizabeth. Do Not Want: Anyone else to get hurt.

--- S I D E W A Y S ---

By WriterJC

_"Be careful. This could be a trap."_Elizabeth's words echoed through John Sheppard's head as he emerged from the gate, holding his P-90 in front of him. He wasn't necessarily a shoot-first-ask-questions-later kind of guy, but Pegasus had taught him that being prepared to shoot went a long way in making sure that he was around to ask questions later.

The sunny forest setting that greeted him on the other side was a little underwhelming. Obviously the earlier morning mist captured in the MALP video had burned away, otherwise this world was the typical cookie cutter mate to half the worlds they'd visited in the past three years.

He looked farther out beyond the densely wooded space and felt a tickle in the back of his mind. All of his senses went into higher alert, but there was nothing to see; no unusual movement or unnatural stillness.

He turned slightly at the sound of the disengaging gate and watched as Ronon and Teyla spread out, trusting them to cover the area around them. McKay did his usual shuffle through the gate, paying more attention to his devices than where he was placing his feet.

"Any life signs, Rodney?" John tossed the question toward the scientist as he went back to his own surveillance, mentally categorizing every rock, tree and bramble in sight. There was definitely something - that tickle wasn't going away; if anything, it notched up a level.

"Huh?" McKay's distracted response was followed almost in the same breath by a comprehending "oh" and the sounds of rapid tapping as he switched modes on the handheld device. "Just us," he answered the question without elaboration and typed a similar pattern that switched the unit back to the other mode.

John knew that particular sequence of taps. With a gesture of his head, he directed Ronan and Teyla to continue to monitor the area as he made his way to the team scientist. "What is it?" He looked down at the flashing lights. Some of the indicators looked familiar, but he was more interested in why they were causing McKay to give the device's keypad the geek equivalent of the third degree.

Rodney gave him a put-upon look. "You know that maybe-Ancient distress call we're here looking for? Well it's decided to change."

"Changed how?" Sheppard took another look at the handheld. Maybe the change in the energy pulses could explain what had his Spidey sense on edge. He gave the surroundings another visual once-over.

"That's odd." Rodney stood up straighter and moved off to the right, muttering as he went.

John trudged after and asked with feigned patience, "What's odd, McKay?"

McKay turned back as if he'd forgotten they'd been having a conversation. "There's another signal now. And it's coming from over here . . . It's stronger and . . ." He paused and stared at his device again, completely absorbed by whatever he was seeing. He pressed a single button with his thumb and gave the device another glare.

"And . . .?" John prompted.

"And just give me a few minutes," was McKay's distracted reply.

"Okay fine – let me know as soon as you find anything." He gave the other man space to work, but keeping watch as Rodney wandered randomly in the vicinity of the gate, occasional mutters coming from his direction.

He allowed his surveillance to take him past Ronon and Teyla. "You guys sense anything unusual?"

"I sense nothing." Teyla's gazed settled on him, questioning him without words.

"Me neither. Except a few small bush animals," Ronon responded. "McKay lose the trail?"

"More like finding one too many. Keep your eyes open. Something doesn't feel right about this place," John answered. They both nodded without argument, immediately understanding that if he had more, he would have told them. It was one of the things he loved about his team. Despite their unique and sometimes eccentric personalities, they got each other.

Rodney finally came to a stop near one of the larger trees where he shrugged off his back pack and dug out his laptop. The tree was tall with a broad trunk, vaguely reminiscent of the giant redwoods in the north western United States, only not quite so . . . giant, and not at all unlike the other hundred or so trees around them.

"Here. Hold this." Rodney shoved the handheld toward John. "If you're going to hover, you might as well help." John took the device without comment, but started a mental count down on how much longer he was willing to wait for answers.

Rodney whooped in triumph seconds later. "Got it! The signature is definitely coming from here, but it's barely there. Maybe I can boost it . . . ."

Ronon and Teyla closed in on John and Rodney's position. John shared a brief look with them, before looking pointedly at McKay.

"Hmph. Definitely odd." Rodney didn't even look up.

John rolled his eyes. "Time's up." He hated it when Rodney was too oblivious even to notice The Stare.

"Huh?" Rodney did look up then.

"McKay." There was warning implicit in Sheppard's tone. "Why are we still wandering aimlessly around the gate instead of tracking down a distress signal that is supposed to be 3 miles away? Remember, Ancient distress beacon? Technology?"

"Oh, but this isn't aimless," Rodney had to argue the point. He pointed triumphantly toward the big tree in front of them. "This tree is emitting low-level EM energy with a carrier that is identical to the jumper-like distress beacon the MALP detected."

"Meaning?" Finally actual information.

"Meaning it's not really a tree."

"Feels like a tree." Ronon thumped it with the side of his fist and eyed McKay with a bored look.

John shot Ronon a look – he understood the big guy's impatience, but touching things that weren't what they were pretending to be was dangerous.

McKay beat him to the verbal punch. "Are you crazy? That could have been something that fried your innards to a fine black powder."

Ronon shrugged, not impressed.

Rodney looked back toward the tree, then picked up a nearby stick and tapped it. "Conan does have a point, though. It does seem incredibly tree-like. And the readings don't change when things are brought into close proximity with it. Maybe there is some kind of technology embedded inside of it."

"There are even insects making their home within the bark," Teyla pointed out.

"What? Where?" Rodney demanded, bending to pull his equipment away from possible danger. As if a few ants could run off with all the crap he carried around in his back pack.

John frowned as he looked back at the tree, ignoring Rodney's frantically beating the insects away from his equipment. That feeling that had been hovering in the back of his mind was practically dancing a jig. There was something here. Something that called to him . . . .

The bark was rough and a deep ash-brown. He wondered how it would feel beneath his fingers. The tingling in the back of his mind blossomed. He only had to reach out and touch it. He barely had time for a heartfelt "Oh crap" before the universe was yanked out from under his feet.

**~*~**One moment Rodney was beside a tree surrounded by greenery and sunlight, and the next he felt a sensation like a split-second case of vertigo on steroids followed by complete darkness. If he wasn't already stooped near ground level he would have landed flat on his face.

Other sensations kicked in. The pitch black coalesced into just near pitch black, broken only by the illumination reflected from the screen of his laptop. At some point he must have dropped it because it lay beside him on flooring that was hard, smooth and definitely not the usual abode of furry little woodland creatures.

He had only just reached for his flash light, when someone else's came on with a click, affording only marginally better illumination than he was getting from his display. Normally, he would have laid odds that Sheppard would have been first with the built-in P-90 light – must be easier to reach than one inside the pocket of a tac vest - but it was the shadowed lines of Teyla's features that greeted him.

Ronon, he was convinced, wouldn't even bother with a flashlight. He'd just light up any given room with a continuous blast from that big gun of his. Or maybe he didn't care that it was dark. He had super hearing, probably had night vision like a cat, too. Nevertheless, his shoulders and massive hair shadow was visible beyond Teyla.

Sheppard was . . . where was . . . "Sheppard?" Rodney did scramble for his flash light then before joining it with Teyla's in the battle against the oppressive dark.

"Here." Ronon's deep voice sounded from floor level several feet away. Rodney, understanding automatically what the one word meant, moved in the direction of his teammate's voice and nearly tripped over what felt suspiciously like a pair of booted feet. Ronon's follow up, "careful" was too late to be helpful.

"Now you tell me," Rodney muttered as he directed his light toward the floor, and trailed it up the spread eagled body of one Lt. Colonel. A soft groan escaped the downed man about the time Rodney's light confirmed his suspicions and settled on the face, pale in the artificial lighting. It was probably pale in non-artificial light, too, because the man _was_ passed out on the floor. That usually came with some level of pale.

"Hey!" A grumbled objection sounded from behind hands raised against the glare.

"Oh. Sorry." Rodney redirected the light away from Sheppard's eyes, but near enough that he could still get a good look, and maybe get started on figuring out what had happened before it blew up in their faces more than it already had.

"John, are you all right?" Teyla had taken up position on Sheppard's opposite side. She looked ready to begin nurse duties at the drop of a hat. But as far as Rodney could see, there was no blood to clean away and no fevered brow to be mopped.

"What's wrong with you?" he demanded instead, asking the better question. Because, seriously, 'are you all right' would only ever net them the obligatory, patent pending, 'I'm fine'.

"I'm fine," Sheppard responded, and slowly dropped his hands away from his face. "What happened? Is everyone okay?"

Rodney gave himself a mental congratulation in accurately predicting Colonel Invincible's reactions. He could have called the 'is everyone okay', too, but what was the point? "If by everyone you're including yourself, then the obvious answer is no."

Sheppard pushed himself up into a sitting position as if attempting to disprove that which was completely apparent. "I said I'm fine. Where are we?"

"Obviously not in Kansas anymore. Remember touching the tree that we decided we weren't going to touch?"

A frown marred John's brow, then, "vaguely."

"Well, between one 'oh crap' and the next, we ended up here. The three of us on our feet, you, not so much."

"I think I just got a little dizzy for a second," was the line Sheppard expected him to buy.

"You think?" There was so much wrong with that statement that Rodney wasn't even sure where to begin, but he had to try, because, really –

"But I'm fine now," Sheppard cut him off before he could get very far. And then he was dragging himself up toward a standing position. The way Ronon was hovering it was obvious that everyone was expecting him to fall. "Where are we, again?"

"I would have figured that out by now, except. . . making sure you were alive and what not . . . ." Rodney was already moving to pick up the hand held just visible just beyond their small circle of light. He hoped it wasn't broken.

The device lit up obediently as soon as he touched it, going through a brief initialization sequence. Moments later, he nearly dropped it himself as they were suddenly bathed in light and a sound like a thousand car horns going off at once.

=A=

John felt like he'd gone about 10 rounds in a G machine, and that tickling at the back of his mind made the jump to actual headache at the sound of the blaring noise around them. But even that wasn't as surprising as where they actually were. Despite the volume, he had to stop for a second to take it all in.

The room was fairly large, about the size of the entire jumper bay and vaguely oval with the far ends squared off. The team was nearer to what he was going to call the upper part of the oval within a large circular area. But the ceiling itself rose several stories above their heads before coming to a point, and was made of some sort of glistening green crystallic material, similar to the stuff that was used within Atlantis. There was no stained glass, but the light shown softly down from above, gently illuminating the floor space. A dozen or so gray paneled doors were set into the walls around the room itself.

"Where the hell are we, McKay?" he demanded, reaching for the LSD himself. Alarms were never a good sign. It would be better to know sooner rather than later that they were going to be having company. The device showed only four blips.

"I'm on it!" Rodney yelled as he fumbled with his equipment, frantically searching for information.

"This is most certainly Ancestor technology!" Teyla stated, raising her voice above the din.

"That's a safe bet." John agreed with her. "Walk and type, McKay! There's got to be a control room around here somewhere. Maybe we can find a way to turn off that alarm!"

They moved toward the nearest door. It opened on their approached, revealing a wide room with a row of compartments containing raised beds separated by partitions. The other side of the wall contained a raised platform with a nearby control panel.

"Medical bay!" Rodney called from behind them. "I recognize some of the equipment Carson's been working with."

Good enough. "Okay, let's move on. Maybe we can bring the doc back later and see if he can use anything." They backed out of the room and headed toward the next door which was set in the high part of the oval. It was much wider than the first.

"Oh no." Rodney's words sounded even with the blaring alarms, which were really starting to spike John's headache.

"What is it?" John turned away from the door.

"We're almost a mile underground." McKay told him, already beginning to panic.

"And this is bad because . . . ?"

"We were teleported down here when you touched that tree. I don't know about you, but I don't see any trees or any other way to get out of here."

"Hence the need to search for the control room," John reminded him.

"Right. Excuse my untimely, yet rational, panic." Rodney gestured with his lap top. "Carry on."

John sighed and turned back to the door before them and waved a hand in front of the control. Stale air greeted them, and there was a brief delay before the room inside illuminated fully.

The room was crescent shaped with the top of the arc being made of some kind of transparent material. Beyond the Ancient glass was a large, very obviously, underground rock face of a material that shown green in the light that reflected out of the control room.

Beneath the large view window was a long row of consoles containing crystals and Ancient controls. The way things were lighting up and Ancient script flowing across control screens, John knew that this was Rodney's domain. He stepped aside and as the other man moved toward the consoles. Within moments he was digging out the proper cabling so that he could plug in.

As the door slid closed behind them, the blaring alarm was muted enough that they no longer needed to yell. Farther into the control center, they were able to see that beyond the curve of the room to the right was another door. John moved toward it, saw that it opened into a corridor. These walls were of a different material than the large main area that they'd transported into. Everything was a gleaming metallic gray.

He stepped back into the control room, wanting to see what kind of luck Rodney was having. And to find out if the noise was just an intruder alert, or something more ominous.

"Rodney? Anything?"

McKay looked up. "I've been able to determine the purpose of the some of the rooms. Sleeping quarters, storage, mining control, ah . . . here, alarm." Rodney pushed a button and sudden silence fell. It felt like reverse pressure against John's ears making them ache against the lack of sound. It did nothing to decrease his headache.

"That's the good news. The bad news is, this place is on its last gasp. That second signal I picked up after we arrived was a maintenance request. It's actually broadcasting on a level that similar to a brainwave pattern – really weird. I'll have to . . . ."

"Rodney," John interupted. "That's fascinating, but . . . ."

"Yes, yes, that can wait. The point is, the Ancients programmed the system to respond to a gate being opened from Atlantis. Best guess, some kind of geological instability in the last ten thousand years caused the smelting machine to go off its rocker which in turn did some damage to the power conduits. It's causing spikes and instabilities all over the system. Life support is all but belly up."

"Well, can you fix it?" John asked. Who knew what kind of goodies the Ancients might have left behind down here. Worst-case scenario, Carson got some back up medical equipment and Rodney some new crystals to add to his collection.

"Before we suffocate, probably not. Never mind that I'd need a couple Naquadah generators just to figure out how this place works. The transporter has done its last good deed in getting us down here. The only other way out is nice warm climb through a mile of cave system, and then a short hike to the gate. By the time we got out of here and back with the equipment it would be too late. Without the scrubbers, the air will become contaminated from the mining by-products. The system fail-safe will cause the entire facility to lock down to protect the outside world. And then, even if we do manage to get back inside, once the power is completely depleted, the database goes into meltdown and auto deletes. The Ancients who built this place weren't planning to hold this place together, waiting for another evolution of their offspring."

"Yeah, I get that, Rodney. But there has to be something you can do." They couldn't just give up this easily. "Can't you override the fail safe? Give us more time so that we can come back in hazmat gear?"

"No, you don't understand. At best we have two hours of relatively good air before . . ." Rodney snapped in a Eureka moment. "Maybe if I . . . ." He was already turning back to his computer, when John turned to Teyla.

"Keep him out of trouble," he gestured toward Rodney.

"I heard that," Rodney called from beneath the console. John ignored him.

"Ronon and I are going to check out what's behind door number 2."

Teyla smiled knowingly. "I will do what I can."

=A=

Ronon followed Sheppard out of the curving room into a shiny-looking hallway. It was kind of different from the other ones, but Ronon wasn't sure why. He didn't really care why. This place was interesting to Sheppard's people because of the Ancestor technology - he could understand that. It would help in the fight against both the Wraith and the Replicators.

"Does it smell like the air is getting worse down here to you?" Sheppard asked as they followed the hallway to a door that opened when they came close to it.

Ronon shrugged. "A little. Kinda reminds me of the mines on Sateda. We used to use an ore for some of our weapons."

"Really, weapons like your gun?"

Ronon eyed him. "No, different kinds of weapons." Everyone wanted his gun. So far, marines had tried to wager him out of it. Some had tried to trade him for it. On some worlds there were those who had tried to kill him for it. He wasn't worried about Sheppard trying to take it from him. Sheppard wanted to know where he could get one like it because two good guns were better than one.

"Oh." Sheppard shrugged as they approached another door. This one didn't open like the others. He waved a hand across the panel and tried again, and still nothing happened.

He tapped his earpiece. "McKay. We're in front of a door that doesn't open for us. Can you tell where it leads?"

McKay's voice was annoyed. "It leads to the almost-jumper bay."

"Excuse me? Did you just say that there are jumpers here?"

"Not exactly jumpers, really. They're actually smaller and I think they have something to do with the mining operation. Where else do you think the almost-jumper distress beacon was coming from?"

Ronon hid his grin at the frustration that crossed Sheppard's features. The odd relationship between Sheppard and McKay was often amusing.

"Well, open the door so I can check them out," Sheppard demanded.

"I'm a little busy right now saving this facility," Rodney shot back. "Forgive me if I can't take thirty minutes to figure out why the doors to the jumper bay won't open so you can go play with ships."

Sheppard retrained himself. "Fine, fix the system, McKay." He paused to stare at the door. He really wanted to get in there.

"Why don't you just trick it like McKay does?" Ronon suggested.

"They almost always open so politely for me." Sheppard complained, still looking at the door.

"This one isn't." Ronon shot back, and couldn't resist an extra dig. "Weir could do it."

"When did you see Dr. Weir hotwire a door?"

"When she was . . . "

"Nevermind." Sheppard cut him off like he always did whenever anyone mentioned what Sheppard called the 'Phoebus / Thalen incident thing'. Ronon had forgiven both leaders, understanding that they weren't themselves. It was up to them to let go of the guilt.

It took Sheppard half a dozen attempts before the door panel even lit up. After several more minutes, it made a loud grinding sound and started to move, but stopped before it opened all the way. There was just enough space so that they could get their hands inside to pull it the rest of the way open.

"Knew you could do it," Ronon grinned at him, then patted him on the shoulder as he moved to pull the door farther open.

Sheppard made a face at him. "I'll get it. We'll let you hotwire the next one – without using your gun."

"No fair."

"Who says life is fair?" Sheppard asked as he wedged his arm and upper body into the opening for added leverage. He braced himself to push when the lights began to dim. Ronon was sure that they both felt the tremor in the ground at the same time, but he thought maybe Sheppard felt something more. He could tell by the glazed look in his eyes, like he was seeing or feeling something from somewhere else.

Then suddenly, he blinked, and McKay was yelling something over the radio about a huge power spike and an overload. And then he was screaming for them to get out of there.

Ronon didn't take time to think, he just reached for Sheppard, meaning to pull him bodily from the door opening if he had to. But he never reached him. Something hard knocked him backward. And then the lights went off completely, and he felt himself flying backward on a wave of heated air.

Sheppard's screams sounded above a roar of rushing sound, and then with frightening suddenness, his cries died away.

=A=

Teyla ran ahead of Dr. McKay as they sped though the darkened corridors, lighting the way with her weapon. They had both heard Colonel Sheppard's agonizing cries through their radios. It had sent a shaft of fear into her heart to know that her friend experienced such pain.

Doctor McKay was not faring well, either. His breaths came in frantic pants as he tried to contact Sheppard over a quiet radio that returned only silence.

The lights returned as they passed through a door at the end of the shiny gray corridor. As they passed through another door, they were forced to stop suddenly as they saw Ronon climbing to his feet.

"Are you all right?" Teyla asked, taking in blackened spot at the opposite end of the corridor. John Sheppard was no where to be seen.

"Where's Sheppard?" McKay blurted the question that was upper most in Teyla's mind as well.

Ronon looked from them toward the dark smudge marring the floor. "Did you mean what you said?" Ronon asked quietly.

"What?" Rodney looked toward Teyla, his voice high and squeaky, as if he struggled, like she did, to understand why Ronon would ask such a question at this time. "What did I mean about what?"

"What you said by the gate, about being incinerated to a fine black powder?"

Teyla watched the blood drain from Rodney's face. He seemed to waver for a moment, as if his knees had weakened beneath him. Indeed, the thought that the spot at the end of the hall had been foretold by an offhanded comment only increased the horror.

Ronon's features tightened as he struggled to contain his grief. But Teyla, would not believe it. She would know if John Sheppard was truly gone. She was certain of it. She would need proof, the kind of proof that only Rodney could provide.

"Where is the life signs detector?" She asked. Though she refused to acknowledge the possibility, her voice still shook as she made the demand.

Rodney was listless as he pulled the device from his vest. He paused as he looked at the display. His features went from pale to flushed red. "Four. There are four! He's here, he's alive!" And then he ran, and they ran after him.

Rodney led through back through the corridors and beyond the main control center to the open area where they first arrived before slowing. He seemed to take a moment to get his bearings, before turning toward the room that he said was a medical bay.

One of the three raised circular platforms on the left side of the room was glowing. A clear barrier had formed above the circle and extended to form a glass enclosure that reached from the ceiling to the floor, and was large enough for a man Ronon's size to stand with both his arms extended.

John Sheppard was encased inside of the glass, slumped against the side of its wall, unconscious. All of his garments were gone save a pair of pale blue stripped boxers. The visible portion of the left side of his body was layered in blackened soot just like that which they had seen in the corridor where they had found Ronon. As they approached, it became obvious that the soot also covered painful looking blistered skin and deep oozing lacerations.

Teyla could only watch in amazement as a beam of light traveled the length of the enclosure along his unconscious form. As the beam passed beyond his head, the lacerations were noticeably less reddened. On the second pass they were even more improved, but still had a long way to go toward healing.

John made a soft sound—half whimper, half sigh—and then his brows began to crinkle into a distressed frown. The previous slow rise and fall of his chest began to increase.

"Oh my God, he's waking up."

Rodney's words expressed the horror that Teyla felt. His injuries appeared far too serious to endure comfortably.

=A=

John Sheppard was on fire. It seared through him, dancing across nerve endings, altering his ability to breathe. Yet each motion pulled at tender flesh along his side. He struggled to open lids that felt as if elephants were sitting on them. Something tickled at the back of his mind. He needed to wake up.

"Sheppard!"

"Colonel!"

"John!"

Voices reached him. His team was calling his name. They needed him. With what felt like a monumental effort, he managed to get his eyes open. Ronon, Teyla and Rodney came into view. They were standing over him on the other side of . . . was that glass?

"What happened?" He slurred the words, barely managed to get enough air to whisper the phrase. "Is . . . everyone . . . all right?"

He thought Rodney might have rolled his eyes, but he couldn't be sure because his vision kept blurring in and out. Teyla nodded and smiled her response, but he could tell by the look in her eyes that whatever was wrong with him—it was bad. Ronon was quiet and stoic. Basically, that meant that he felt the same way Teyla did.

Rodney was the one who answered the first part of his question. "Remember the tree? Transporting into the broken Ancient facility about to go bye-bye?"

John allowed his eyes to close for a moment so he could catch his breath. It was easier to just nod in response. The memories all returned obligingly, except the one that had landed him here . . . without his clothes, now that he took a moment to check.

"Well, there was an explosion in the almost-jumper bay. Turns out that what its distress beacon was about. The system sensed you were in trouble and transported you here for medical care. There is some sort of beam that's healing the injuries on the side of your face and some pretty impressive burns. It's really quite amazing actually. I'm not sure it's doing anything other than superficial repairs, though."

John made a face, and immediately regretted it. Even wincing hurt. Now that McKay mentioned it, John thought he recognized that 1000 roller coaster feeling of this facility's transporter beneath all the other discomforts. Although, he had to admit the burning had lessened significantly since he'd woken.

"I thought you said that transporter wasn't ever going to work again." He couldn't resist poking at Rodney. Besides, it helped take his mind off of the fact that he was sitting in a glass jar and wearing nothing but a pair of boxers.

"Well . . . lucky for you it likes you. It probably saved your life."

"We thought you were dead." Ronon's solemn words spoke more to the faint shell-shocked look in everyone's eyes than anything else.

"Nah. I'm fine." He decided it was time to get morale back up. "So, how is mission 'getting around the fail safes' going, McKay?" He gave himself a moment to pull himself together; the pain was a lot more manageable. Maybe he could work his way up to standing.

"I have a few more subroutines to write." McKay admitted.

"Are you going to get them done or are we giving up on this place?"

"Right. I've got much more important things to do than to stand around and watch the John Sheppard show. I just need to go get my computer." He pointed over his shoulder and headed for the door.

"I will go with him," Teyla assured John. "We will return shortly."

John offered a smile of thanks at her, and then turned to Ronon. The big guy crossed his arms and stared. Obviously, he had no intention of going anywhere. So much for struggling to his feet without an audience.

"Any idea where my clothes are?"

=A=

By the time Rodney returned to the medical bay, John had managed to stand. It had taken some time and Ronon hadn't said a word out loud, but his looks had spoken volumes as to his disapproval. But John needed to get himself out of this glass box soon.

He had the plan all laid out in his mind. After Rodney finished up his software fix, they were all going to walk out of here. It was only a mile through the cave and then through to the gate. Piece of cake.

The world wavered for a second and he was forced to brace himself against the glass wall. It was pretty difficult to hide anything when you were exposed literally in a glass tube. So of course, everyone moved toward him, trying to save him from a fall that wasn't likely considering limited space. It annoyed him.

"How long on that program?" he asked Rodney.

"Until it's done," Rodney shot back and went to work on it.

Sheppard turned to the other two members of his team. "Ronon, Teyla. McKay can Sheppard-sit. You two go scout the exit to the cave, make sure it's clear. We don't need any more surprises."

It was obvious that they both had other ideas, but they shared a look and seemed to come to a mutual agreement before heading out. Whatever worked. At least he didn't have to find the energy to argue with them.

"You know, you're not doing anyone any favors if you collapse." Rodney couldn't keep quiet. It just wasn't in his nature.

"I'm not going to collapse. I'm trying to get out of this thing. I've been thinking at it for the past minute and nothing. Maybe you can figure out how to get it to shut down sometime between finishing your program and us getting out of Dodge."

"Yeah, all right." Rodney spoke softly, and pulled up something on his computer. "It looks like it's only about 50% though the cycle of whatever it's doing. " An obnoxious grin slid across McKay's features. "You're really going to like the next part."

John didn't like the sound of that. "What happens next?"

Rodney just snickered and went back to his program.

"Rodney . . . ." John tried to put as much threat as he could into his voice. It didn't work. Rodney just ignored him. Typical. Stuck in a box and no one was listening to him.

Suddenly the tone that was made by the healing beam changed, going from a soft hum before dropping away with a hiss. He blinked and looked downward, watching as it disappeared into the base of the floor for the last time. Then suddenly, something cold and wet slapped against his shoulder.

He yelped, bumping the glass wall in surprise. He looked up in time to see a glob of something green and slimy headed right for him. He just managed to move his head to avoid getting it in the face. The cold green goo continued to fall, oozing over his body. Rodney was laughing so hard that John seriously doubted he was doing their program any justice.

"Happy to amuse you," he groused.

Ronon and Teyla returned about the time he was dripping and knee deep in cold wet slime. It stuck to everything it touched. He hated to even think what his hair looked like. Worse he was starting to shiver. This really couldn't be good for a healing man. The shivering confirmed Rodney's earlier hypothesis that not everything internal was completely healed. But at least the gel was doing something that made the internal aches and pains feel distant. It was not on the level of Carson's good stuff, but it was welcome.

Ronon's face broke into a grin as soon as he stopped in front of the glass enclosure. One look at him, and Rodney broke up again, too. Teyla at least took the time to express her sympathy. "I am sure this is for the best." Although, there _was_ a glint in her eyes.

He looked at her suspiciously, but was redirected as the tone of the chamber changed again. This time warm water sprinkled in from over head. It started softly and increased in strength to the level of the perfect shower. It was blessedly warm and seemed even to relax some of the pains from his joints.

His injured areas only pulled slightly as he reached up and scrubbed the slime out of his hair. All of the black powder disappeared with the gel which seemed to dissolve on contact with the water. The portions of his body that had been burned were only slightly reddened and tender to the touch. He tuned out his team and enjoyed the warmth.

When the tone changed and the waters stopped, he squeezed his hair back to get the water out and waited for the glass to open or disappear or do whatever it did to let him out. Instead, a gentle breeze of air began to blow from above.

"You've got to be kidding me!" he exclaimed. The thing was blowing him dry. But not in the normal blowing dry sense, something else was going on, too, because the water was evaporating off his skin far more quickly than seemed normal.

Ronon and Rodney were still enjoying themselves way too much, but he didn't take the time to even respond to Rodney's hedgehog comments, because that tickle that had been in the back of his mind since they'd even come near this place was ramping up again.

"Rodney," he called a warning. And then the tremors started beneath them.

"There's another surge coming!" Rodney announced, already searching his consoles while everyone else braced themselves against whatever was nearby.

"Rodney, I need out of this thing, now!" The heat of the drying system was getting warmer. Too warm. John had a very bad feeling about this. The dryer lights above grew brighter and hotter. "McKay!"

"I'm working . . . ." Rodney's fingers fairly flew across the keyboard. "I just need a second. One second!"

The lights went blinding hot and the heat was almost unbearable and then suddenly there was darkness. John released a soft grunt as his legs went out from under him.

=A=

The only illumination in the darkened room was again Rodney's lap top. The sense of déjà vu was killing him. He was almost positive he'd gotten the reset through before the power had dropped out. If all went well, the medical enclosure should open when the power cycled back up.

Any minute now.

Any second.

_Please?_The lights came back up, significantly dimmer than before, all of the consoles were darker. This was not good. He moved closer to the glass chamber with Teyla and Ronon. Sheppard was slumped in the bottom again. The floor controls and the upper controls were darkened. It didn't open. This was so not good.

"Ronon," McKay turned to the runner. "I need you to get back to Atlantis as fast as you can and bring Carson, and a naquadah generator. I need you to run."

"Why, what's wrong?" Ronon looked up at the dimming lights.

Sheppard breathed heavily, but rolled his eyes up in their direction, taking it in. "Yeah, what's happening?"

"We don't have time to talk about this. I need him to go – you need him to go, now!"

Sheppard gave Ronon a look and he was out of the door.

Teyla looked at him in askance. "What is wrong, Rodney?"

"Yeah, any time, McKay," Sheppard joined in. "And some clothes would be nice, too." Rodney noted that his words were much more muted than before. The container must have broadcast Sheppard's words to the outside while it was powered up. Now, it was obvious that he was speaking from behind a thick surface.

"I would love to get you out, especially since I'm done with the fail safe modifications that will prevent the database deletion. Regrettably, there isn't enough power left to operate this room any longer. There was barely enough to get the lights going."

"So what you're saying," Sheppard spoke up, "Is that it's going to get dark in here pretty soon. And I'm still going to be stuck on display."

"No, well, yes, about the 'it's going to get dark' part. We're going to get you out."

"How, McKay? You said it yourself, there isn't enough power. And, how long before the air becomes toxic? This glass bottle. . . room . . . thing . . . is pretty self-contained. Why don't you all head back to the gate _with Ronon_ and bring help?"

"Yes, that. The rest of the bad news is that you only have about an hour, give or take, of air left in there."

"I'm going to suffocate?"

"No. Like I said, we're going to get you out."

McKay moved back toward his laptop to see if he could come up with anything else while they waited for Ronon and Carson to get back. He hadn't told Sheppard exactly, but he was fairly sure that he knew. It could take Ronon a lot longer than an hour to get through the caves, to the gate, to Atlantis and get Carson back on foot. Sheppard had no time at all to spare.

While he mulled the depth of the problem, he heard Teyla's comforting tones as she settled on the floor beside the glass so that her shoulders were opposite Sheppard's.

"How are you feeling, John?"

Sheppard shifted slightly. "Crispy."

=A=

Teyla has spoken with Sheppard for as long as she could. His deterioration began very shortly after Rodney informed them of the true nature of the situation. She was thankful that he had thought to send Ronon to bring back help. She only hoped that it would be enough.

Even now, John was barely conscious, still slumped against the side of the glass nearest her. She did not want to see him die this way, and yet she could not leave him to face it alone. Rodney still worked diligently at his computer looking for some other solution.

He had attempted to reach Ronon on the radio several times, but it had not helped. They had gotten no response.

There had been a remaining surge that Rodney had hoped would restart the system. It had not happened; it had only taken the last of the lights with it. And now, the facility had grown increasingly warm, and the smell of ores had increased. Both she and Rodney were having increased difficulties in breathing.

"Rodney," she called to the other man, fighting the urge to cough. "How much longer?"

"We're out of time. If he's not on his way, he's not going to make it." She could just make out his pale, perspiration dotted forehead in the faint light of his lap top.

"Then you must come over and join me." The words were painful to speak, but they had to be said. Rodney and John's friendship ran deep. It would scar him not to say good bye.

Rodney remained on the other side of the room. He looked tormented. Teyla well understood that sentiment.

She would have continued to try to persuade him, but they heard a sound, a most beautiful sound. "Rodney, Teyla, are you there?" Carson Beckett's winded voice came over the radio.

"Yes, we are here!" Teyla breathed with a joyous smile.

"How far out are you?" Rodney asked.

"Just a few more minutes," Carson said, then added something Teyla did not understand. "Och, sorry, lass. I almost fell in this dark cave. How's Colonel Sheppard doing?"

"He's nearly unconscious. He suffered a brief period of hallucinations and there is a slight tremor in his hands."

"Thank you, dear. I'll be there as soon as I can. Ronon is running ahead with the generator, and there's a team behind us with more medical equipment."

The radio fell silent again as the minutes and seconds ticked away. And then Ronon came running in. He ran directly to Rodney and handed the equipment to him. Rodney snatched it away without a word.

"How is he?" Ronon was struggling to catch his breath, sweat flowed over his skin, dampened his hair. He looked toward Sheppard, a pale slumped form in the darkened room.

Teyla squinted to be sure that the rapid rise and fall of his chest continued. "It is a close thing. I hope that Rodney can make it work."

Moments later, they heard another set of footsteps outside. "Carson, in here!" Teyla called out into the darkness. He entered the room just as the platform hummed to life, bringing the rest of the lights with it. There was a moment where everything seemed very still, and then the glass cycled away into the ceiling, and John Sheppard collapsed into their waiting arms.

=A=

John was falling into darkness and light.

_"Easy there, son, we've got ya. . . "_But he was surrounded by friends. Voices and sounds that made him feel not so alone.

_"I need that oxygen mask, now . . . ."_There was pain.

_"Ach, what have you done to yourself, lad?"_And then there was nothing.

=A=

John opened his eyes and the Atlantis sick bay slowly came into focus. A soft sound drew his attention to the right and a form dressed in a red short sleeved shirt. "Elizabeth." He smiled tiredly up at the form as he took stock. Instead of a tickle in the back of his mind, his head seemed stuffed with cotton.

"John." Her response was accompanied by a teasing smile. "I thought we agreed before you left that you were going to be careful."

"I'm always careful." He gave the same response that he'd given earlier because he simply wasn't sure he had the energy to come up with anything else.

"Oh really?" A Scottish burr sounded from behind Elizabeth as Carson entered the area. "Explain the 1st degree burns and internal injuries, then."

"The reason for the good drugs and all the tubes." John gestured sloppily at the IV running into his left hand, the tubes in his nostrils and a few others that he wasn't up to being specific about.

"That they are," Carson confirmed. "But we'll have you right as rain in no time. According to Rodney, the system in the underground facility went a long way in taking care of a lot of your injuries. I'm anxious to get back down there and see what it has to offer."

John nodded, and looked between the two. He didn't recall much beyond the heat lamp from hell in that underground medical bay. So, he wasn't clear on where the rest of his team was. Carson and Elizabeth didn't look like they were volunteering. "So everyone is all right?"

"Oh, yes. Rodney and Teyla are having a breathing treatment. The air became fairly toxic pretty quickly down there and they were exposed the longest. Ronon is on a bit of an assignment in X-ray."

"What sort of an assignment?" John wanted to know, but he was really running out of steam. "What . . . happened . . . ?" His voice was becoming softer. He knew it meant that he was fading fast.

"Nothing to worry about," Carson assured. "I've asked him to make sure McKay and Teyla complete their treatment. They're all fine."

John felt a hand resting against his foot through the blankets. "You get some rest."

The world dimmed away.

When next he opened his eyes, it was to a darkened room. The smell of Atlantis' sick bay surrounded him. Rodney was almost seated in a chair near the bed, his head to the side, drool running down the side of his mouth. Teyla was crashed on a nearby bed, and Ronon was sleeping while sitting up, his arms crossed over his chest.

John smiled. There were no more tubes in his arms, in his nose or anywhere else. The monitor was gone. There was no more tickle in the back of his mind, and there was clean, fresh, if not faintly antiseptic, air to breathe. Even better, he was surrounded by his team. All was right with the world.


End file.
